Into The Golden Age Before Us
by Nemo Crawley
Summary: With their parents dead, Peter and Lucy Pevensie had no choice but to go live with their cousins, Susan and Edmund Pevensie. Resentment begins to bleed through from both sides, but will their trials in Narnia change that? Change them and their outlooks on each other? (Pairings towards end; no Pevencest!)
1. Chapter 1

Hello! This is my first fanfiction for this fandom so any all reviews or constructive feedback would be helpful! Enjoy

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Chapter 1

In the kitchen of her modest London home, Mrs Helen Pevensie muttered to herself as her eyes darted furtively across the telegram in her hand, whose words contained news she never wanted to have received in the first place. Or in any place or time. In her disbelief, she re-read the letter in her hand once more, this time slower that she might digest the words on the page and leave out any misunderstandings.

But, what kind of misunderstandings can one get from such a clear statement?

She dropped her hand as she felt herself age a decade more than her genuine age. Tiredness seeped into her bones as stress and worry invaded her mind, not for the first time today.

With the sun beginning to set, the worry and stress she was feeling at that moment was not to go away 'til the dawning of the sun, as German air raids had begun again, a living hell that forced one from their warm beds and sent running into the frigid night air, just to arrive to safety ("why can we not sleep instead in the air raid shelters?").

With all this in mind, she found that she just had to accept what the contents of the letter contained, its devastating nature and its terrible consequences quickly; the war will wait for no one in their grief. There will be time to grieve after the war. But what to tell her children? Her children might not take to this news very well. They may see it as a competition or as another piece of news that will provide more sadness that will hover over their heads. But those poor children…

The future looked bleak in the light of this new news (not that it already didn't look bleak with the war raging round them). Speaking of bleak, Mrs Pevensie looked to her wristwatch and realised that she should be preparing their supper now before air raids can prevent them from eating in the comfort of an actual table.

"Susan!"

She called down her eldest daughter, desperate for some help to accomplish the plethora of tasks that need to be tackled before air raids could potentially start. The cutting of carrots needed to be tended to, the boiling of peas needed to be overseen…

Footsteps began to resound throughout the house as Susan came down. In careful ladylike steps, she trotted to the foot of the stairs and landed at the bottom with a subtle flourish. With her, she carried an air of maturity that, for a twelve year old like herself, seemed artificial in its execution but was nonetheless real. Despite that, her grace was genuine, her gentle nature was unfeigned (it was plain for any to see) and her features showed promise of a great beauty in the far future, that is of course when she has naturally matured physically.

The hurry of needing to accomplish tasks was clear on Susan's face when she had arrived at the entrance of the kitchen. Her mother didn't need to tell her, she could tell just how much needed to be done in a short amount of time. In the middle of cutting thin slices of beef, Mrs Pevensie turned around to find Susan pushing up her sleeves slightly to get started on the dinner.

Mrs Pevensie released a sigh of relief. "Susan, prepare the vegetables then go set the table." She said to Susan as she hastily cut the beef to cook. From the corner of her peripheral view, she saw Susan give a slight nod before scurrying to wash her hands at the sink. "Where is Edmund?"

The answer didn't come from Susan- rather; it didn't need to be answered by either of the ladies. Hurried stomps came down the staircase. As dark-haired as his sister, Edmund was not as gentle as she, as evidenced by his steps, which were reminiscent of his personality.

"I'm here!" He declared.

Mrs Pevensie turned to him after leaving the beef to cook in a pan. She was surprised by what she was greeted with. Despite his usual rosy pallor, Edmund's cheeks were unusually pale. It was as if a white dust had descended upon his cheeks and settled there.

She rushed forward, grabbing a corner of her apron to wipe his cheeks with. "Oh Edmund," She sighed. "Had I not told you not to eat sweets before supper? Especially Turkish Delight, you might finish you supply too quickly and then you might not get any for months." She wiped his cheeks and the corners of his mouth thoroughly as he grimaced, but secretly, he delighted in the attentions his mother showered him in.

"Mum!" He whined. "That burns!"

She quickly dropped her apron and instead caressed his cheeks soothingly. "Is that better now?" She asked.

Edmund nodded his head vigorously, and she in turn kissed his cheek. Susan saw it as she entered the kitchen with a jug that needed refilling and rolled her eyes at the display. "Mum, I don't think that you should continue to treat Edmund like a child."

Edmund glared at her. Their mother tutted at that. "Why ever should I stop it? He is still a child."

Susan let the tap gush water into the jug she had been holding and watched as it filled the hollow container. "But he's becoming a brat!" She gestured openly to her glaring brother.

Pausing, Mrs Pevensie turned to look at Edmund, really look at him. All she saw was her son; but as she looked back and reflected upon their memories she had with him. She sighed as she begun to realise he was indeed growing up and she couldn't continue to treat him thus. Well, maybe just a little. "I'll try not to treat him like a little boy-"

"Mum!"

"But he is still a child, so I will try to compromise, dear." Mrs Pevensie finished after having been interrupted. She scooped up their dinner into serving dishes and gestured for Susan to take them.

Susan could only inwardly roll her eyes and instead gave her mother an imperceptible nod to say that it wasn't what she was asking for but it was the best she was going to get. She took the dishes from her mother before hurrying to set it on the table with both her brother and her mother in tow, the latter carrying the jug of water Susan had previously left.

Sitting in their respective seats, they held each other's hands as they said the grace before meal. With their eyes screwed shut, Mrs Pevensie didn't see Edmund clenching Susan's hand just a tad bit too tight. It was no surprise then that when they had finally let go that Susan was the quickest to retract her hand, rubbing it soothingly under the table to let the blood flow through it again. As both Susan and Edmund scooped their food into their plates, Mrs Pevensie took a deep breath as she readied herself for what she was about to reveal.

"I have something I need to tell you two," She began unsteadily, her voice and fingers jittering with nervousness. "And it is something very important."

Both her children looked to her, though Edmund's was more curiousity rather than the actual concern his sister showed. "Do either of you remember your Uncle James?"

Susan smiled fondly at the memories that replayed in her mind as she replaced the serving spoon in her hand. "Yes. I think he is father's cousin; it's been ages since we've seen them- him and his family."

Edmund frowned. He looked to both Mrs Pevensie and Susan, with his eyebrows creased in confusion. "I can't seem to remember him."

"It's alright, dear." Mrs Pevensie said reassuringly, patting his hand comfortingly. "It's been many years and with times such as these, one tends to blur memories in their minds."

A heavy curtain woven from grief and awkwardness draped itself upon the once lighter atmosphere; talking about the viciousness of war had become a sort of unspoken taboo in the house. It became too much of a sensitive subject and the inhabitants of the Pevensie household were desperate to go back to happier times.

All the same, Mrs Pevensie cleared her throat and persevered on the topic, as pressing as it was. "Well, your Uncle James had died two months ago, a gas attack (so it goes) in the Front. His wife, your Aunt Evelyn, got sick very quickly after hearing the news and died just this weekend."

A pause came and Edmund's expression morphed into one of extreme confusion. "So, how does this actually concern us?" He asked. "Are you telling us we have to be present for the funeral now?"

Susan frowned at him. "Edmund!" She chided.

"It's not only that, dear." She said slowly. "It's that their children, Peter and Lucy, have nowhere else to go except an orphanage."

Susan's eyes widened at that. "You don't mean-"

"Yes!-Let them come live with us!" Edmund approved wholeheartedly. "I can finally have someone to play chess with, rather than have to listen to Susan drone on about words that I'll never use ever in my life."

Relief flooded through Mrs Pevensie's mind as Edmund gave his seal of approval to her niece and nephew coming to live with them indefinitely. It might certainly give the house more life, having more children underneath its roof. But worry entered once more as she realised how much more she will have to work to feed more people on a daily basis. She consoled herself with the thought that it will all be worth it one day.

"You don't hear me complaining when I'm forced to play chess with you!" Susan cried. Mrs Pevensie smiled at the thought of her children's mindless banter.

"You don't hear me complaining either when you play with me!" Edmund shot back.

Their mother watched on as they continued to bicker, allowing them this normalcy- despite Susan's mortification of pride. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Edmund rolled his eyes to emphasise his point. "That you are one of the worst players I have ever had the misfortune to play with."

Susan's eyebrows shot up in obvious glee as she pointed at him, despite his insulting of her. "Ha!- I actually taught you that word, misfortune, a week back! And you say you'll never use these words in your life! You should be thanking me." She looked smug, crossing her arms and leaning her back against her chair like that.

"Why would I want to thank you when you are filling my head with useless nonsense?" Edmund sneered.

"Because you are actually making use of that so-called 'useless nonsense', that's what." Susan replied, feeling proud of herself.

"Then I should tell you," their mother interrupted their conversation. "That they will be arriving tomorrow, before noon. In preparation for their arrival, I expect you both to make sure that your bedrooms are tidy and that the guest room is clean, tidy and prepared for them. They may want to retire for an afternoon nap; as you know, travelling is very tiring especially for you youngsters."

"They're coming already?" Came Susan's outburst.

"I haven't prepared anything yet." Edmund looked agitated; he never liked being caught unaware. He liked being one step ahead of everyone. "Will you excuse me from dinner? I'd finished and I'd like to clean up my room."

Before Mrs Pevensie could say anything, Edmund tucked in his chair and scurried up the stairs with loud stomps. Susan didn't make a move, the smug smile was gone. It was as if it was never there. Mrs Pevensie could see the obvious distaste. "Are you not excited that your cousins are coming? You haven't seen them in ages." She asked Susan quietly.

"No, but that doesn't matter." Susan replied shortly but in a polite manner, her tone blank. She sighed as she played with her food. "May I be excused? I need to tidy up my room."

There was a tone of finality in her voice, but her mother doubted that she would be doing as she had said. She gave a nod of her head and Susan let her fork clatter on the plate as she stood up to make her way to the staircase, leaving her mother with only herself for company.

As she climbed up the staircase in silence to her bedroom, Susan fumed from the inside. Could they not have gone somewhere else? She rationalised that everyone else may have gone out of town. Susan was certainly not looking forward to being reunited with them, but she talked herself into realising that she had to allow this, else her cousins will be homeless and no one deserved that sort of fate (in her mind at least). So, she stayed quiet for the rest of the evening for the sake of not ruining this moment of charity from her brother's part, even when the air raid had happened, even when she had been frightened half to death, she hadn't made a noise.

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A/N: I'll try to update this as much as I can, but with exam season on, it will prove to be difficult for me. As for my A Patient Pawn readers, I'm a bit stuck on how to continue but don't fear! I have almost finished writing the new chapter! It's just a matter of finishing it and finding the time to post it. Cheers, Nemo xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sharp knocks came upon their entrance and echoed throughout the Pevensie household. 

Heavy, hurried footsteps answered in response, coming from deep inside the house. Some shuffles rang through, accompanied by heated whispers. Some fiddling happened before at long last the door was opened to reveal a tall boy holding heavy suitcases on both of his hands. With golden hair as if coloured by the sun itself, it was ironic that he was quiet and somber in appearance but radiated a sort of rugged aura of grace, despite being on the verge of adolescence. Edmund opened the doorway just a bit wider, a little intimidated by his height. The elder boy nodded his head gratefully. As the tall boy ambled through the doorway and onto the threshold, a little girl with darkening blonde hair trailed in, creeping behind the boy who was clearly her brother with her eyes trailed downwards. In her arms, she clutched tightly a stuffed animal that Edmund couldn't properly identify. 

Could it have been a lion? 

He couldn't tell but it wasn't as if he couldn't, only he could have had he been given more time. Mrs Pevensie walked quickly to welcome their new house companions, smiles gracing her older features. 

"Oh hello, Peter!" Mrs Pevensie greeted, clearly excited by the arrival of the newest inhabitants of their household. Edmund noted to himself that his mother looked more well dressed today than any other day, only he wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't looked at it every other day. 

"My, how you've grown!" Mrs Pevensie gushed, eyeing the boy she called Peter, who looked clearly uncomfortable at receiving all the attention but was too polite to decline it. He just kept a slight smile on his lips."You look so much like your father." 

With that one line, the euphoric environment had disappeared and the room darkened considerably with the mindless compliment. Mrs Pevensie blustered with an apology. "Oh, I am ever so sorry; I hadn't meant to-" 

"It's alright, Aunt Helen." Peter calmly assured her, though he looked a bit saddened by the mention of his father. He tried for a smile, immediately charming Mrs Pevensie into silence, even Edmund seemed charmed by it momentarily. "I'm really very grateful that you have decided to take my sister and myself in. It was jolly good of you to have thought of us." With that Peter set down the suitcases in his hands with a soft thud and held his hand out for the little girl behind him to take. 

"This is Lucy," Peter introduced, his expression was apologetic. "I'm not quite sure if you remember her, Aunt Helen." It seemed as if she hadn't heard him as Mrs Pevensie's expression was one that showed wonderment. Peter knelt down to face little Lucy, who seemed to begin to retreat into herself as she begun to realise that the attention was being turned towards herself. "Say hello, Lucy." 

Lucy gulped and allowed her face to surface from being stuffed into the stuffed toy (Edmund could now clearly see that the toy was indeed a lion, or at least a child-friendly depiction of one). Her lip quivered a little, but it seemed she was made of stronger stuff. "Hullo, Aunt Helen." Lucy greeted in a small voice, though her young voice was unnaturally tinged with innocent melancholy. Her eyes remained downcast, but nevertheless, Mrs Pevensie was instantly charmed by the little girl's shy introduction. 

What a darling little girl! Mrs Pevensie thought to herself. As she continued to study the little girl who stood before her, she realised something. 

Mrs Pevensie turned her head to Edmund, who she found was curiously studying young Lucy with a childish fascination. "Edmund," Mrs Pevensie queried, immediately winning his attentions. "Where's Susan?" 

"Mum, if you don't know, how would you expect me to know?" Edmund asked back, a little irritated that his mother had caught him studying their newest arrival. He felt his brows starting to crease and his cheeks beginning to heat up. 

"Susan!" Mrs Pevensie called out in the direction of the staircase, where she knew Susan was most probably was. "Susan, come down! Peter and Lucy are here!" She turned to their new arrivals, with Peter standing up from the carpet in anticipation of her arrival. "She'll be coming down in a moment." Mrs Pevensie gave a shaky smile, unsure of how Susan was going to receive them. 

Light footsteps could be heard traipsing down the stairs, and the boards creaked wearily. As Susan rounded the corner, Mrs Pevensie could see the beginnings of a displeasure that could have only been caused by their arrivals.. But she couldn't for the life of her understand what it was that Susan was so displeased about, on the matter of her cousins. It couldn't really add itself up in her mind. 

The corners of her full lips were pulled downwards in dissatisfaction and her smooth brows furrowed in annoyance. Despite the expression she displayed, Lucy was still enchanted by her. Her little mouth was agape and the corners of her own lips were turning up into a smile. 

Why, she looks like a princess! Lucy said inwardly in awe. I wish I could look like her! 

Despite her shyness at having to practically ambush a stranger, little Lucy ran up to her with wide grins and began to tug on her modest skirts, catching her by surprise. 

"I think you're very pretty." Lucy said with some shyness still evident in the quivering of her lips, however much she tried to quell them. "One day, I wish I could grow up to look just like you!" 

Peter's jaw became slack at his little sister suddenly come out of her shell in front of people who were practically strangers to her, but then so did Edmund's and Lucy's Aunt Helen's jaws. But no more than Susan, whose cheeks began to blush under the compliment as well as the embarrassment of having it done in front of her brother and cousin no less. She tried to compose herself quickly and bent down to be the height of her cousin. 

"Now, why would you want to look like me?" She asked curiously, as she begun to play gently with the resplendent locks that grew bountifully upon Lucy's head. "Wouldn't you want to be yourself? You already look very pretty!" Susan tried to return a compliment to keep her at ease. 

"But I think you look so much prettier! Don't you think so, Peter?" Lucy asked innocently back to her brother with shining cerulean eyes. 

"Huh?" Peter asked, dazed by the scene before him. When he realised all eyes were on him, he tried to regain his wits. "Um… uh, yes!" He said quickly. His cheeks began to redden, making him a laughable sight at the clash in colours as he began to realise what he had agreed to. 

"Well then, if you would like," Mrs Pevensie interrupted, a bit amused by the situation. "You can go unpack your cases and then have a change of clothes. Afterwards, we can go have some supper. Will that be alright for everyone?" She asked, making eye contact with everyone with the exception of Lucy, whose eyes found solitude once more on the wooden floor. 

Everyone nodded. "So, Susan, Edmund," Mrs Pevensie said, "Can you show Peter and Lucy their rooms?" 

With a nod from both of them, Edmund ran up the staircase as Susan took Lucy's hand and helped her up the stairs. Meanwhile, Peter heaved the suitcases up all by himself as he was forced to trudge up the staircase by himself and catch up with everyone else. 

Mrs Pevensie watched him climb the first two steps with worry. "Are you sure you don't need help, ducky?" She asked, voicing her concerns. However could she not? The suitcases he carried looked frightfully heavy, much too heavy for a growing boy of his age. 

But Peter bore the weight, not wanting to impose any further on her hospitality and kindness. It will be too much for his pride to swallow. "I'm alright, Aunt Helen." Peter hollered down the staircase. "I've brought it all this way, a little more isn't going to hurt!" 

It had been a slow, gruelling journey. With the house now being silent, he could hear himself grunting under the weight of the suitcases. It was a relief when at last he had arrived at the top of the staircase; he found himself faced first with the girls' bedroom, as he later found out that Susan would be staying with Lucy as she had a large enough bed as well as a comforting presence towards the little girl. Peter was happy that she had an older girl to look up to and it seemed that Susan had become quite taken with her, going by the little squeals that could be heard coming from the bedroom. 

As Peter took a sharp turn, he struggled down the hallway to find the only open bedroom door. He put the suitcases carefully down at the entrance so as to not make any noise and inspected the room. 

Before he could though, Edmund popped out of nowhere a dark, scowling expression pressed upon his features. "You're staying here; I don't wanna have to share my bed with another boy." His features morphed into one of disgust at the thought. 

Peter felt himself taken aback by the statement. "It's alright then, I don't mind having to sleep by myself." 

"Good, I wanted to make myself clear." He said, turning his back to Peter and walking towards his bedroom. "Bathroom's down the hallway if you need it." He said before closing his bedroom door, leaving Peter to feel as if he had been shut out of an opportunity at a friendship. 

Taking a shudderingly deep breath, he turned back round to face the bedroom and inspected it. 

It was a clean room of sparse decoration and mute colours, but it had all the essentials a person could need. It was perfect, better than what one would receive at an orphanage. Peter smiled at the coziness of the room and began to remove his jacket and cap and hung it on the coat stand. Slowly, he began to open his suitcase for a change of clothes but then realised that Lucy's suitcase was still with him. He smacked himself mentally; now he has to lug it all the way back down the hallway. A deep sigh, then he grudgingly proceeded to take up Lucy's suitcase and walk towards the girls' room. Before entering though, he gave the door a couple sharp taps when the giggles stopped. "Who's there?" Susan's voice asked, muffled by the closed door. 

"It's Peter." He replied. 

He heard a sigh of annoyance. "What is it you want?" 

"Can I come in? I'm sorry to have to intrude, but I need to give Lucy her suitcase, she needs to have a change." He said. 

A few muffled steps were heard approaching the door and it was opened, to reveal Susan with the displeased expression etched back into her features (is that a common facial expression in this house?). 

He opened his mouth to say something but was stopped short by a glare. Some sort of instinct told him not to press on, so be gingerly walked in and let the suitcase sit at the foot of the bed and lead himself out. Lucy gave him a look of sympathy and he returned it with a small smile. He didn't want to have try and cross the house's natives as Peter was already the one who was trespassing on their kindness. But really, it was becoming all too amusing (Does everyone in this house hate his presence?). Just a few steps after he left their bedroom, the door closed behind him firmly and the lock clicked mockingly, making him feel like an outsider once more.

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Supper had seemed to be much better. 

The atmosphere was taut with hostility and unwelcomeness, despite Mrs Pevensie's best efforts. She couldn't understand why Susan seemed to have a sort of irrepressible hate for Peter, but could well enough understand Edmund's hostility towards him. 

The company sat under an enchantment that seemed to have rendered them wordless, but the glares it seemed have not subsided. Susan, it seemed, was happier avoiding looking at Peter altogether. Edmund though...his glares were dark and seemed tinged with undefined resentment. It didn't bother Mrs Pevensie so much, she thought he would grow out of it. At least Lucy seemed to be enjoying herself more now. She tried looking at everyone now, but she still sometimes found her eyes wandering towards the walls. 

As the forks and knives clattered noisily against the porcelain plates, Mrs Pevensie could hear small conversations between Susan and Lucy: "Do you like it?" was met with a "Yes, I do." 

Peter stayed quiet, despite his constantly looking at Susan with a puzzled look, as if wondering to himself what it was that he had done to offend her. I was thinking the same thing then, Peter dear, Mrs Pevensie thought amusingly to herself. Edmund, who she had found studying Lucy curiously earlier, had tried to initiate some conversation with her, as it seemed she was the one who was closest in age to him, with her being 8 and him 10. But theirs was a stilted exchange, with Edmund forcing responses out of her. Their exchange was a comical one, that it took a lot of effort on Mrs Pevensie's part that she not burst out in peals of laughter. It was clear then that little Lucy didn't seem to want to say anything to him. 

Maybe she was still a little shy towards him, or could have been quite intimidated by his darker looks and the scowls that were aimed at her brother. Whatever the reason had been, it was evident then that the lack of a proper response on Lucy's part caused Edmund great annoyance and thus, he left her alone and he glowered into his meal instead. 

Otherwise it was a very quiet dinner affair, not one that merited a lot of attention but nevertheless showed how they had fared together under one roof for their first night together. 

Afterwards, the events proved to be a little better. Lucy and Susan had found themselves playing with dolls on the carpet in front of the fireplace, amusing themselves with giving each one a different persona as well as a different voice. Edmund had finally found a worthy opponent to play chess with in the evenings, with Peter providing a more than adequate partner to the game. He almost sent Edmund bawling when Peter had almost checkmated him. But because he pitied his cousin (as it seemed no one had beaten him yet at his favourite game), Peter decided to waste his move and allowed his cousin the opportunity to win the game. 

And he almost regretted it. 

Edmund suddenly had a change in personality, it was so sudden in fact Peter was sure that his heart was going to escape his body with the sudden skip. It even scared poor Lucy, whose whole body suddenly jumped along with her little heart. He began to shout for joy and danced round Peter mockingly, leaving poor Peter to sit in his chair with glowing red cheeks at the embarrassing display. It was fortunate then that Mrs Pevensie heard Edmund's rare laughs and walked into the parlor to see what it was that caused it. 

It was then she was greeted with an embarrassed Peter and a joyful Edmund. "Whatever are you so happy about, Ed?" She asked, almost smiling herself; his laugh seemed so infectious! 

"I beat Peter!" He cried, a toothy grin gracing his features. When the true nature of his happiness had been heard by Mrs Pevensie, her smile immediately dropped and her features morphed into that of anger. How could he be so cruel to take pleasure in other people's pain? 

"Edmund Pevensie!" Her nostrils flared in anger and her brows creased dangerously. "You should be sorry for doing that!" She cried. 

Edmund immediately stopped laughing and turned to his mother with his signature scowl. "I haven't done anything wrong! I was just rejoicing in my king's triumph." He crossed his arms and stomped the wooden floorboards so hard, Peter feared they would break. 

"A true king needn't take pleasure in his enemy's loss, rather he should be benevolent enough to take sympathy in his enemy's plight." Mrs Pevensie said with a reasonable voice. 

"Well, that king doesn't know how to be a true ruler." Edmund said petulantly, before running up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

The slam of his door echoed into the house as silence befell its inhabitants. Mrs Pevensie looked to Peter, who she found was looking at his clenched hands and at the floor. "Are you alright, Peter dear?" She asked softly. 

He breathed a heavy sigh, one of resignation. "I'm fine. It's just it would have been nice to make a friend, as I don't seem to know anyone here." He said sadly, the somber air returning once more. 

Susan tried to bite her tongue, she knew she was going to regret was she was going to say. Perhaps, regret was too light a word compared to the feeling she had about this. But she did so anyway, disregarding the feelings as someone was feeling terrible and she could do something to remedy the situation. "For what it's worth, I think what you did was very admirable. It was jolly good of you to lose. Losing to my brother is not easy, but to lose willingly is a feat on its on scale." 

She offered a small smile in sympathy, which he returned in thanks. Mrs Pevensie smiled at the display, she felt that Susan was beginning to let go of whatever it is that she had against Peter. "Peter?" Lucy's voice piped up in excitement. "You've got no one to play with, and we seem to be missing a dad. So, could you play the dad?" She pleaded, her eyes growing rounder, as if begging themselves. From the corner of his eyes, Peter could see Susan's smile fading but didn't take much notice of it as he put it down instead to one's cheeks becoming tired. 

He couldn't say no to those eyes, but he worked to not be pulled to their powers of persuasion. "Please?" She poked. 

The poke had done its job. "Oh alright, scooch over." He moved to sit next to Lucy, who had given him a doll which he was to act as the father. Crossing his legs, he began to play out his role to please Lucy and enjoyed himself as Lucy had herself and Susan had forgotten even for a night that she had a dislike for Peter. 

Mrs Pevensie was warmed by the sight that greeted her, the obvious sibling love between Lucy and Peter and a start of a tentative friendship between Susan and Peter. She hadn't wanted to interrupt, so she left them to sit in their imaginative bubble and continued the knitting she had left off during the afternoon. 

And such was Lucy and Peter's first day at the Pevensie household. 

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A/N: Here's the second chapter! This was a lot of work, as I still have 11 more exams to go as I did this! But this was a good stress reliever. :) Thank you for the reviews, I really appreciate them. I hope you guys also tell me how I can improve, as one of the purposes of writing these stories are to be able to improve as well as also tell me what you thought of this chapter and what you think's gonna happen. If you're having exams as well, good luck! Cheers, Nemo xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It has been weeks since Peter and Lucy's first arrival at the Pevensie household and it hadn't seemed to be going well since then. Peter and Susan's relationship had been lukewarm at the best and did not seem to be getting any better than that, much to Mrs Pevensie's dismay. Edmund seemed to have adopted a habit in which he continually poked fun at Lucy at the times she had least expected it. There had been a particularly bad scenario that involved Mrs Pevensie having to cut Lucy's hair and having to lock both Edmund and Peter into their respective rooms. 

It had been the week before and Lucy had become taken with Mrs Pevensie's gardens, especially the yellow daffodils. It reminded her, she said, of the sun that had just come out after a particularly rainy day. I like to think that it reminded her of hope. She had been sat with her back to the house and had in her hands a few random flowers that she had thought was pretty and a handful of daffodils and was beginning to arrange them in her hands, putting the ones she hadn't sorted yet on to her skirts. She hummed quietly to herself as she sorted the flowers, her lion pouting blankly at her as it unknowingly watched her. 

She smiled at it from time to time and waved at it, its eyes shining. She should have continued to look at its eyes, then she would have known what had hit her. 

When she had begun to find an arrangement that pleased her greatly, Lucy began to get excited and opted on continuing to do that same pattern until the bouquet was complete. But her peaceful afternoon was destroyed when she felt a cold, sticky substance being scooped unto her hair. 

The coldness and shock made her scream, scream so loud that it called her brother from his afternoon nap. But her screams only incited a nasty laugh from her perpetrator. She suddenly stood up and tried to shake the cold, sticky liquid off of her hair, dropping her bouquet of flowers and leaving it splayed across the grass, looking almost dead. Edmund continued to laugh uncontrollably at the sight of Lucy trying (and failing) to get the cold, sticky mud off of her hair, until his laugh was abruptly cut short by the sound of Peter's furious yell at him from the kitchen door. 

"Ed!" 

His red face was scrunched up in his fury, twisting into a terrible scowl. Despite his lanky, adolescent form, Peter carried with him an undeniable aura of an intimidating nature that Edmund had been unfortunate enough to spark. In a brisk pace, Peter marched hurriedly over to Edmund (who had been too surprised by his presence to have moved) and yanked him up by the collar, bringing their faces close to each other. 

"What have you done to my sister?" Peter screeched at him, his fingers digging deeper into Edmund's collar and finding some contact with the younger boy's skin, leaving behind raw lines. 

Edmund began to cower at the harsh approach. "I haven't done anything to her!" Edmund cried, half in pain and half in hysterics, bringing his arms over his face to create a distance between them and to shield him from any punches Peter might throw at him. 

Peter wasn't convinced by that response. "Edmund, she wouldn't be screaming her head off if you hadn't done anything to her!" Peter's voice was getting louder at every word he uttered. He shook Edmund's collar violently, eager to get a confession out of him. "Now tell me:" He gritted his teeth together, "What have you done to my sister?" He punctuated each word and almost shouted the last word. 

But the racket that the two boys had been making, in addition to that of Lucy enduringly screaming, had finally attracted the attentions of Susan and Mrs Pevensie. "I hadn't touched a single hair on her head!" Edmund replied pitifully as he saw Peter's arm was raised and poised, as if to take a hit at Edmund. But his maneuver was stopped by Susan and Mrs Pevensie's sudden shouts at the boys. 

"Peter! Edmund!" 

Both their heads turned simultaneously in reaction to their names, but it hadn't stopped Lucy's cries of desperation to get the substance out of her head. Susan ran to her to give her some comfort, but was stopped as soon as she had seen what was on Lucy's head. Her eyes widened as she begun to see what it was that distressed Lucy so much. "Mum!" She cried, though not hysterically. Only urgently. 

Mrs Pevensie almost hadn't noticed Susan's call for help as Peter was on the brink of starting a brawl with Edmund. It had been Susan's cry for help that had been Edmund's saving grace and downfall. 

Susan had managed to get Lucy to calm down and sit on the grass to closer inspect the gloop on her head. She tentatively poked into it, feeling a stickiness to it as well as a disgusting grimy undertone. It thoroughly stained and submerged most of Lucy's resplendent curls, looking to dye it to dark lanks. It looked to be a mixture between Marmite, treacle and mud. Mrs Pevensie came to look as well, Peter worriedly following along as well. With one look at it, Mrs Pevensie immediately turned her head to Edmund, whose face held no trace of guilt. "Ed, why would you do that?" She asked calmly, though her hands were tightly clenched on either side of her form. 

Edmund would not meet her gaze, only looked downwards sourly, as if furious that his plot has been spoiled. "I was bored." He huffed, crossing his arms together for good measured. "She," he gestured with the point of his nose to Lucy, who was sniffling on the grass next to the splayed arrangement of her flowers, "Seemed to be having some sort of enjoyment, so I decided to get some of my own from her." Edmund smiled almost maliciously at Peter. 

At that, Peter could no longer control himself and ran forward towards Edmund, with his aunt and cousin unable to restrain him. In reaching Edmund, Peter gave him the hardest whack he could summon. 

"Peter!" Mrs Pevensie cried, enraged at what she had been previously trying to prevent. Edmund had fallen into the grass, his hands clutching his cheek tenderly. Peter had been huffing heavily and had been ready to strike again, but was luckily stopped by Susan bodily restraining him with her hands firmly holding him back from the shoulders. "Peter." She forced from between her teeth. "He isn't worth losing your temper over." She said and shoved him backwards to throw him off balance, to ensure that he wouldn't think about getting her brother again. 

With shock, Mrs Pevensie told Susan to take Edmund to his room and lock it, while Mrs Pevensie took Peter up herself to his room to lock him up, effectively restraining both cousins from causing anymore fights that night. 

Once the boys had been banished to their rooms, Susan had gone back out to the garden to collect Lucy whilst Mrs Pevensie prepared a bath for her to be able to wash out the muck from her hair. Throughout the whole of the bathtime, Lucy remained quiet, excepting a few sniffles. While Susan washed her hair, Mrs Pevensie gave a sorrowful cluck at the stickiness of the nightmare that Edmund had dropped on her. So as not to scare Lucy, Mrs Pevensie instead whispered to Susan, "We need to have her hair cut; her ends have thoroughly been damaged," and shouted jovially out loud, "Now, would you like a haircut, Lucy? Hmm? To be able to forget this dreadful night ever happened?" Of course, children are very easy to distract, thus it is safe to say that Lucy has been able to enjoy her new bob cut and all its advantages. 

But tonight did not allow for that. 

The Germans had begun another air raid again and it disturbed the inhabitants of the Pevensie household. All had been sleeping soundly until the alarms blared wretchedly into their ears. Chaos had ensued as the whole household was in a disarray, sleeplessness factoring into their discomposure. 

Peter was banging on Edmund's door, shouting at him through the thin door and the thick, sharp sounds of the air raid alarm. "Edmund!" He shouted angrily through the door and beating it down with stern fists. "Get up, you lazy lout!" He banged once more against the door and attempted to open it up unsuccessfully by blindly ramming himself into it. As it turned out, the door was bolted shut. Peter gritted his teeth as he tried to open the door once more, his aim deteriorating with desperation and pain from the sirens blaring. As he did so, he felt a gust of swift wind blow past him in the form of an unsettled and stressed Susan, who was holding a torch that she switched on and off to relieve her of her fidgeting. 

"Why isn't Edmund out yet?" She yelled bossily at Peter, as if it was his fault to begin with. 

Peter squinted his eyes to see the movements of her lips, with his hearing almost impaired. "I dunno; he locked the door and won't open up!" Peter shouted back at her, as he continued his futile attempts to get the door to open. Susan growled at the direction of Peter and the door and shoved him aside to get to it. 

"Maybe it's because he doesn't want to listen to you!" She said. Banging the door loudly with all her frustrations, Susan's pale complexion was beginning to bloom rouge spots in her cheeks in the darkness. "Ed! Get up!" She shrieked, reminiscent of the air raid sirens that were giving the same message as the one that she was delivering. When slight rattlings of the door could be heard (which seemed almost impossible given the circumstances), Susan sighed with relief yet exasperation and Peter ran shaking fingers through his hair. "He's going to get killed if he doesn't come out this instant, either by the Germans' bombs or my hand." And off she went, to get another torch and blankets to bring into the shelter. 

As Edmund was trying to unlock the door, Peter was hit with a thought. A very important thought. "Susan!" Peter shouted at Susan's retreating form. "Where's Lucy?"

His question wasn't heard amidst the cacophony of falling and exploding missiles. He could only watch helplessly at the empty hallway as he was instructed to get Edmund in times like these due to him being the closest. 

At last, the door had swung open, revealing a miffed-looking Edmund. Peter was too stressed in that moment to roll his eyes at Edmund's antics and attempts to tick him off, so he just lunged forward for Edmund's arm and yelled at him, "Come on, Ed!" just as another explosion could be heard and rattled the whole of the house. As Peter pulled Edmund along, Edmund ripped his arm away from Peter's grasp, startling him. 

With a disgusted expression, Edward shouted at Peter snidely, "I am not holding your hand!" and shoved Peter to the walls of the corridor before running ahead to the stairs himself. With Peter's head hitting the wall, he began to feel a little disorientated and dazed. He struggled to stand back up and using his hands, scaled the walls for something to grip on that he might be able to get up. The whistling of bombs wailing rang noisily in his ears and he couldn't seem to mute it out, despite his efforts to cover his ears. 

It was fortunate then that Mrs Pevensie's scream could be heard reverberating throughout the house despite the thundering of the missiles outside, instantly awakening him. His eyes shot open and adrenaline began to be pumped throughout his body as he picked himself up to assist his aunt. 

"Edmund, Edmund?" She screamed, her nerves completely out of whack with stress and constant, grating worry. Peter could here the confusion and frustration in her voice, which seemed to be coming from the sitting room. Sprinting quickly to his Aunt Helen, Peter found Mrs Pevensie trying to remove Edmund's attention from the skies littered with aeroplanes. 

"Peter! Get Edmund out of here!" She ordered in a stern voice. 

Peter nodded his head. "Come on, Ed." He said, this time lunging for Edmund's wrist, thereby lowering the chances of Edmund being able to squirm away from his grasp. Both boys ran into the kitchen and found Susan and Lucy waiting anxiously for the rest of the Pevensie family. Susan cuddled Lucy close to her to soothe away the tears and fears that she held; and in Lucy's arms, she clutched tightly her beloved lion, her fearsome protector. Susan noticed their entrance and shouted to them, her pretty features crumpling to accommodate the loud sound she was about to make. 

"Where's Mum?" Susan called to them, embracing Lucy further into her arms. Lucy's eyes were shut tightly and her face was buried against Susan's clothing, desperately seeking warmth and comfort from them. 

Peter was going to answer back, but was interrupted in the process of doing so. 

Another incoming missile was heard and the four children immediately covered their ears and dropped to the ground, their teeth grinding against each other as the impact of the missile rebounded onto the ground. Peter felt a hand on his arm and its strong, shaking pull on him. "Peter, get up!" Mrs Pevensie called to him. "Girls!" She directed to Lucy and Susan, both of whom were quivering as they stood up, using each other as their support. Somehow, in the middle of it all, Lucy's much-loved stuffed toy had been thrown to the floor and Peter had seen it. Scrambling to get it, Peter rushed to get it to Lucy before she begins to burst into tears. 

"Here, Luce," He said soothingly, despite his own shuddering disposition. 

"Come along, now. There's no time to waste!" Mrs Pevensie ushered them through the kitchen door and into the gardens, darkened and colourless. With a tight and firm grip, Mrs Pevensie took Lucy's hand and lit up the way for the residents of the Pevensie household. The bombs continued to drop and explode around the neighborhood, the impact keenly felt. Lucy was beginning to cry with the constant roaring. Following them, Susan clutched to her chest woolen blankets to keep the family warm in the shelter. Peter tailed them all with Edmund in front of him, sprinting to keep up with them all and herding everyone into the bunk. Before Susan could enter into darkened safe house, Edmund had suddenly cried out in horror. 

"Wait! Dad!" He yelled, before running back into the house. Peter tried to catch him, but Edmund was able to evade and dodge him. 

"Ed!" 

Mrs Pevensie was alarmed by what she heard and her attention was abruptly ripped away from the girls she was trying to safely as possible install into the bunker. Her eyes widened as she spied Edmund stealing away back into the house. "Edmund, no!" She exclaimed, her nerves becoming ever so unsettled as the bombs continued to multiply. Peter looked panicked as he turned to face Mrs Pevensie, but became resolute in his answer as his fear for his cousin overruled that of his fear for his life. 

"I'll get him!" Peter declared finally before his aunt could stop him otherwise and ran quickly after Edmund. 

"Peter, come back here!" Mrs Pevensie's distressingly screeched to deaf listeners. 

"Edmund! Peter!" 

Peter ran into the house and was assaulted by the dark state that they had hastily escaped from. His pupils began to dilate and frantically searched for his runaway cousin. "Ed!" He called out, searching for a clue as to where Edmund was. 

No verbal response came; instead it came in the form of loud shufflings in the sitting room. Peter hurriedly made his way there and found Edmund getting the picture of Mr Pevensie in his army attire. A sudden siren was suddenly sounded that signalled an incoming missile aimed at their general vicinity. Edmund's lack of a response towards it sparked a flame of great frustration in Peter and a shout was forced from him as he leaped to get them into a cover. "Get down!" He exclaimed as he tackled Edmund into a corner to shield them from the oncoming force of the missile exploding. 

Glass shattered from the windows above them and showered pulverized glass crystals onto them. Edmund had been slow to recover from the impact of the explosion, the roar of it landing ringing painfully in his ears. His hand though held steadfastly to the photograph of his uniformed father, a slight grin forced to soothe the onlooker. Almost unfazed by the explosion (except for a slight wobble in his step), Peter quickly jumped up and pulled Edmund up with him, worried that another bomb could detonate itself closer to them. In his frustration, he shouted at his clearly shaken cousin. "Come on, you idiot, run!" 

They ran through the backyard, constantly being rained upon by blinding flashes of violent light and decimated earth. Ahead of them, Peter could see Mrs Pevensie's dark head of curls emerging from the dimly-lit shelter, an expression of urgency appropriately worn. Her hand was waving frantically and her voice doing battle with the cries of detonating bombs. "Come on! Get in!" She cried to them, her voice occasionally being drowned out by the bombs exploding around their neighbourhood. 

Edmund made for a sudden stop inside the shelter, careful not to break or damage the frame of his most treasured image of his father, but Peter was already frustrated and the anger had already stayed inside him for too long. Jostling and pushing Edmund to get in given the dangerous circumstances, it had caused Edmund to trip and break the frame of the photograph. "Dad." He mourned pitifully, his fingers reaching weakly for it. 

"Why can't you think of anyone but yourself? You're so selfish." Peter huffed, his voice breaking with anger; his hands were wildly gesturing with emotions taking over. "You could've gotten us killed!" 

Mrs Pevensie's head snapped sharply to Peter at that morbid claim. "Stop it!" She said sternly, one of her hands poised to stop Peter from advancing on Edmund and the other hovering over Edmund to soothe him. 

Peter's shoulders slumped in defeat and asked him mournfully, "Why can't you just do as you're told?" His energy used up, Peter closed the door to the bunker in defeat behind him, effectively ending all discussion on that matter.

* * *

The bustle of the train station was of no comfort to the five Pevensies, whose sullen faces were not unique to that station. The grim colours that the four children wore did nothing to remedy the mood that they were feeling. The only colour that was even remotely close to being called vibrant was the wine-tinted ensemble that Mrs Pevensie had worn to see the children off. Lucy was already on the verge of tears, her young heart breaking at the fact that she was forced to lose another mother with whom she had been able to create a bond with, even if it was only in spirit. On her recently shorn locks of gold, Lucy wore a somber beret, whose colour matched that of the thick, woolen coat that she was wearing. 

At her coat, there were slight tuggings. "You need to keep this on, darling." Mrs Pevensie firmly instructed, pointing to the tags that labelled them as children. She looked up to meet Lucy's teary eyes and smiled to stop the tears that have been threatening to fall all morning. "Alright?" She asked. "You warm enough?" Lucy's head nodded vigorously. "Good girl." She cooed softly. 

Mrs Pevensie then turned her attentions to Edmund, busying herself with his tags to make sure that they stayed on (he has such a nasty habit of fiddling with things that did not need fiddling). "If dad were here, he wouldn't make us go." Edmund spat bitterly. His skin had become pale and the ringlets round his eyes indicated his lack of sleep over the matter. Mrs Pevensie couldn't do anything except listen on in quiet resignation as she had already explained to the children over and over again why she had to do this. 

It was a good thing that Peter understood, even if he was quietly rebelling against the idea within himself. "At least you have a dad. If your dad were here, it'd mean that the war was over and we wouldn't have to." Peter rebutted and Edmund glared at him darkly, now his look accentuated even more by the dark circles that rimmed his eyes. 

The whistles began to blow more urgently now and Mrs Pevensie had stood up in haste. She gripped Edmund's shoulders tightly, willing that he pay attention to her. "You will listen to your cousin Peter, won't you Edmund?" She begged, his face tenderly held between her gloved hands as she gave him his goodbye kiss. Not that he had gotten it so eagerly; he shrunk away from her affectionate farewell with disgust. It saddened her and she had to console herself with the fact that she was only able to give him a light peck on the cheek, as he continuously turned his head away from her. 

Mrs Pevensie then came face to face with Peter, whose resolve immediately melted when she had turned to him. Another mother was to be left behind and it was a wound that was much more difficult to heal with it being the same wound being hit again. One look that was shared between them and both their resolves had crumbled in the light of being separated; resulting in her embracing him. With Peter sniffling slightly, Mrs Pevensie felt a moistness building up around the rims of her eyes and looked up to stop them from falling, not wanting to show to the children her fear and the sadness she carried. "Promise me you'll look after the others?" She whispered urgently. 

She felt a slight nod against the side of her head. "I will, Aunt Helen." He said, his voice cracking a little. 

She could only smile wanly and sigh in determined resignation as she stroked his golden wheat-like hair as she uttered to him. "Good man." 

The conductor's whistles pierced the Pevensies' bubble with a loud shrill, bringing the family to a jarring awareness that there is more than just them there. Cries of 'All aboard!' sent waves of panic, fear and nervousness rushing through the young children, making the journey seem more daunting than it actually was. 

As the crowds began to pick up in speed, Mrs Pevensie turned to Susan last of all. With the whistles crying in an imperative manner, there wasn't much the mother and daughter could say to each other except hug each other tightly to convey all that they couldn't say, with the light but firm grip of a mother's clutch and the hard presses of a child clinging on. "Susan," Mrs Pevensie whispered into her ear, "Be a big girl." 

Of course, Susan knew that she did not need her mother's permission to do so; but for Mrs Pevensie to acknowledge out loud that she was maturing was the approval that she had been looking for so desperately from her mother. With weepy eyes, Susan could only nod her head and clutching her suitcase handle tighter in her hand. 

Before she dispatched the children to the trains, Mrs Pevensie gave them one last look as if memorising this moment before breaking the silence between them with, "Alright, off you go." 

Peter immediately made a beeline for Lucy, taking her suitcase into his care as he had done previously only a couple months back and taking her little hand into his unwavering one. Susan clutched Edmund by the elbow, much to his dismay and to her displeasure. "Hey!- Get off." He said sternly, with a sulk as he tried to remove Susan's hand from his arm. "I know how to get on a train by myself." 

At his childish nature, Susan inwardly groaned at having to take charge of him as she jostled to get through the thickening crowd. "Get off me!" He swatted uselessly against her steel grip, with which she used to navigate Edmund forwards. 

"May I have your tickets, please?" A friendly voice in the form of a blonde train conductor stopped her from entering the restricted area, her hand waiting for the aforementioned tickets to be placed there. Susan quickly released hold of her brother and searched her coat pockets for them whilst Edmund rubbed soothing circles around the spot that Susan had held tightly. It had taken a moment of memory searching that Susan had realised that Peter had the tickets all along, only he had been too busy staring and daydreaming about wearing The Uniform. 

"Tickets, please." 

It was no longer a question, it was instead becoming an impatient order. In her worn out patience, Susan had snatched the tickets from Peter's frozen hands. "Peter!" She called, quickly gaining his attention. 

With the conductor allowing them through onto the train area, Peter nudged Lucy along. She was beginning to cry at the thought of having to be separated from someone she had begun to get attached to as a mother and a tear had managed to snake its way down her pale cheeks. Her older brother bent down to come face to face with her, muttering some encouragement for her before she allowed herself to trudge forwards with her family into an unknown territory that was still irrevocably England.

* * *

 **A/N** : I know, I know! This is a very late update... I had so much guilt in writing this chapter because I did not know how to put into words what I had been thinking in my head and what story arc I had planned for them. Furthermore, I'm going to be going on holiday so that meant lots of packing and little writing and I pray that I will be allowed access to Internet because my grandmother doesn't use or need it. Thank you so much for the reviews; it's nice to know that I am able to share a little of myself in the form of a story to you guys. If you guys have any sort of suggestion in the way that I can improve my writing (even grammatical or spelling errors because those drive me round the bend when I don't see it myself), I am very much open to it. I'd also love to hear from you guys what you think's going to happen. Cheers, Nemo xoxo


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